


That's What Friends Are For

by PipMer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e02 The Sign of Three, F/M, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Missing Scene, One-Sided Greg Lestrade/Molly Hooper, One-Sided Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Season/Series 03 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 22:39:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PipMer/pseuds/PipMer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Lestrade and Sherlock feel out of place during John's wedding reception. Alone and lonely, they run into each other as Sherlock tries to sneak away unnoticed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>SPOILERS FOR THE SIGN OF THREE</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's What Friends Are For

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for The Sign of Three
> 
>  
> 
> I thought both Lestrade and Sherlock looked lonely at certain times during this episode, so I wrote a little fix-it for them. This takes place immediately after the final scene, where Sherlock is shown leaving the party early. No beta or brit-picker.

 

 

 

“Those things will kill ya, you know.”

 

Sherlock stiffened.  He didn’t turn around as he lowered the cigarette from his lips and exhaled.

 

“Something has to,” he replied.

 

“I suppose.  If a fall from a building didn’t do the job, maybe lung cancer will.”

 

Sherlock snorted.  “What do you want, Lestrade?”

 

“You do know it’s bad form to leave the party before the bride and groom, right?”

 

“I wasn’t leaving.  I just stepped out for a smoke.”

 

“Liar.  If that were the case, you wouldn’t have bothered taking your coat.  Not on such a mild night.”

 

Sherlock’s mouth quirked.  “Didn’t want to get ash on my suit.”

 

The inspector laughed as he stepped into view.  Sherlock turned towards him as he took another drag from his cigarette.

 

“It’s Greg, by the way.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“My name.  It’s Greg.  Come on, Sherlock, you call everyone else by their first name, even Anderson.  Well, except for Mrs Hudson, but she’s like a mother to you, so I understand that.  But since I’m nowhere near old enough to be your father – “

 

“Who’s the liar now?” Sherlock smirked.

 

Greg stepped closer and bumped his shoulder against Sherlock’s.  “You’re a right git, you know that?”  He thrust his hands into his pockets and stared off into the night, following Sherlock’s line of sight.

 

“It’s hard, innit?  Watching the person you love marry someone else.”

 

Sherlock scoffed.  “Don’t be absurd, Lestrade.  I’m not in love with Mary.”

 

“It’s Greg.  And you know very well it’s not Mary I was talking about.”

 

Sherlock let an impressive stream of smoke escape into the night air.  “Molly looked rather fetching in her yellow dress, don’t you agree?”  He looked sideways at the man beside him.

 

Greg blushed and looked away.  “Yes, she did.  She and Tom make a fine couple.”

 

“But you wish it were you instead.” 

 

Greg cleared his throat, swallowing hard.  “It’s not me she’s in love with.”

 

“She’s not in love with Tom, either.  That much is obvious.”

 

Greg laughed bitterly.  “No. No, she’s not.  She’s obviously still in love with _you_.”

 

Sherlock snapped his head around.  “What?”

 

Greg nodded.  “It’s a comedy of errors, really.  I’m in love with Molly, Molly’s in love with you, and you’re completely over the moon about John Watson.  Except it’s not really funny, is it?  Any of it.  A right tragedy if you ask me.”

 

Sherlock frowned as he flicked his cigarette butt to the ground and snuffed it out with his well-polished, bespoke shoe.  “ _John_ found someone who loves him back.  Some stories do have a happy ending.” 

 

Greg’s expression softened.  “Yes.  It means a lot, doesn’t it, knowing that your best friend is happy and loved?  Don’t worry, Sherlock; you couldn’t ask for a more loyal friend than John.  There’ll always be room in his life for you.  I mean, come on – it’s just Mary.  She obviously has no issues with him running off on cases with you.”

 

“It’s not ‘just Mary’ anymore,” Sherlock muttered.

 

“What was that?”

 

“Nothing.”  Sherlock tucked his hands in his coat pockets and gave Greg a fake smile.  “So, Lestr - Greg?  Did you want to bum a cigarette?”

 

“Nah, you’re right, that shit’s poison.  Tell you what, though.  If you go back in there with me,” Greg pointed at the dance hall with his thumb, “… and stay until John and Mary leave, then afterwards I‘ll take you to the Ugly Duckling.  It’s quiz night.”

 

Sherlock made a face.  “Why on earth would I go to a pub for _quiz_ night?”

 

Greg’s face lit up with a grin.  “Because one of the topics tonight is – get this – _Serial Killers throughout the Centuries.”_

“Seriously?”

 

“I’m dead serious.”  Greg clapped a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder and steered him towards the dance hall.  “So whaddya say?  Spending time with an old friend should be better than spending it with your brother, yeah?”

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes.  “God, yes. Anything would be better than that.”

 

“Good.  Now, come on.  You and the maid of honour need to dance together, right?  And maybe I can finagle at least one dance with Molly.”

 

“You always were foolishly optimistic, inspector.  How many times have you been married?”

 

“Shut it, you.”

 

“Only if you agree to give me one cold case file for every question you get wrong at the quiz.”

 

“What?? We’re not going to be playing _against_ each other, Sherlock; we’re going to be on the same team.”

 

“Wait, what?  Who said we were going to be on the same team?  I can’t be on the same team as you, I don’t want to lose!”

 

“I don’t think you’re getting how this works, Sherlock.  I’m already doing you a favour by inviting you to tag along with me, I’m not throwing in cold case files too!”

 

“Well, if you don’t want to win, then by all means, alienate your genius friend –“

 

“ _Alright!_ Whatever you want, just – behave in front of John’s guests.  You can be yourself again once we blow this joint.”

 

Sherlock smiled.  “Agreed.”

 

“Good.  Glad that’s settled.”

 

“Greg?”

 

“Yes, Sherlock?”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Greg smiled.  “That’s what friends are for,” he replied as the two of them stepped out of the silent night and into the joyful noise of celebration.

 

 

 

 


End file.
